Instinct
by Beth Weasley
Summary: Eileen and Riddick got them off T2, but when mercs pick up the survivors, everything is thrown into jeopardy again. Eileen and Riddick's odd relationship deepens and mutates in strange ways. Part Two of the Seer series. T for language and gore.
1. Chapter 1

Here's Part Two of my trilogy featuring Eileen Bergenhaus. Like _Dark Fury_, this story picks up very close to the end of the first one. Some terminology related to space vessels in general has been pulled from sources like Star Wars, Star Trek, etc. Much of my version of Riddick's history is guesswork, built on the scarce information given by the movies and games. I know he took the fall for the loss of some five hundred men, but I don't know why they were lost in the first place. I know he was found in a dumpster, but it couldn't have been on Furya, and still having his umblilcal implies that his mother was killed very close to that location. These are my best guesses. None of it is certain, especially as I don't own anything more than a copy of the boxed set.

**Instinct**

A _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ Alternate Universe

Chapter One

"Gonna be a lotta questions, whoever picks us up," Jack mused from the copilot's seat. "Could even be mercs. So whadda we tell 'em 'bout you?" Even squinting in the light, I knew she was looking at Riddick.

"We don't even mention him," I said firmly, touching his arm gently. "_Especially_ not to mercs. We'll say one of us is wounded, just barely stable, but not safe to be moved out of the skiff. I'll be a medic, staying here to 'make sure he stays stable.' We straight?"

I'd said that five days earlier, and now I was getting nervous. Even with what food and water containers had been salvaged from the geological settlement, we were running low. Maybe enough water for two more days, food for three. The skiff wasn't designed to hold a dozen people, either. We were taking turns sitting on the floor, and the air scrubbers sounded like they were about to overload.

I'd coached Fry on what she needed to say when someone hailed us, but she still didn't have it down to my satisfaction. They were all still looking to me for leadership, and Imam and the kids seemed to accept that I would be calling on Riddick for help. The others were still rather leery of the big convict; maybe that was why he hadn't slept for so much as a second yet.

Even more frustrating than dealing with the other survivors was the fact that my only physical contact with Riddick in five days had been light, quick touches. Since we'd kissed back on that hell-hole of a planet, I'd been feeling an insane _need_ for his touch.

To conserve power, Fry had adjusted the interior lights to just fifteen percent output; it was just enough for the others to see by, yet was quite comfortable for me and Riddick. No one seemed to have noticed the silver shimmer in my eyes but Jack, though the others were visibly consumed by their own thoughts.

"Eileen, how come your eyes shine like his?" she'd asked quietly on the second day in the skiff.

"I'm not sure, kiddo," I'd replied in a whisper. I wasn't going to mention that I suspected that his parents and mine had been of the same people. I'd never gone digging for what they'd been, for the source of my enhanced senses and extraordinarily quick reflexes, which had often caused me to react before the danger had entirely manifested. My instincts kept me from the research; somehow, I just knew that my search would alert someone, and then I'd be in really deep shit.

Riddick and I had talked a lot, though the others never noticed, our voices were so quiet. He was as stumped when it came to his heritage as I was with mine. It had taken a little urging and subtle support, but he'd confided that he'd once seen the crime scene report from when he was found.

"Lady was found in an alley, behind a liquor store, with her belly ripped open. Store owner heard cryin', went out to look, and finds a kid in his dumpster, umbilical wrapped around his neck. Her ID said her name was Riddick, and they found a datacard in her pocket with a letter to a sweetheart or husband or somethin'. Said she wanted her kid named Richard B, and then the rest was scrambled, maybe on purpose. Hell of a way to come into the world." And it was. Foster homes were supposed to take care of kids, but I knew a lot of them didn't. He'd probably been through all the worst ones.

I was startled out of my thoughts by a muffled thunk, mostly transferred into the skiff by the vibration of its frame, and then a noticeable jerk on our escape vessel. My guess was that someone had finally seen us and grappled the skiff.

"Unidentified craft, please state your contents and purpose." The voice emitted by the speakers sent a bad chill down my spine. Fry looked at me, her face ashen and eyes wide, and I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging nod.

"This is Pilot Second Class Fry, with eleven other survivors aboard from the crash of Hunter-Gratzner, New Oslo Shipping Company. We have one serious injury, and request transport to the nearest spaceport." The blonde was shaking, but doing all right… so far. There was a long pause before she was answered.

"Bringing you in, Pilot. We will have a medical team dispatched to your bay immediately." Frantic, I shook my head at her. I had to hack into several databases before anyone else could be permitted to even _see_ Riddick, or he'd land right back in slam… or _dead_.

"Negative, one of the other survivors is a medic, she recommends that he not be moved. There's a significant chance that his spine is damaged. He's touch-and-go as it is." 'Not bad," I thought. For something as off-the-cuff as that was…

"Acknowledged, Pilot. Will your medic be staying with him, then?" I nodded.

"Yes, sir," she replied. "The rest of us would appreciate a chance to wash up and stretch our legs, though. We've been crammed in here for five days, and the head _sucks_."

"Very well, Pilot. _Kubla Khan_ out." Oh, _hell_. Not much more than rumors surrounded that ship; the only confirmed facts were that it existed, and that it was a merc vessel.

"Blankets," I ordered, trying to stay calm. "We have to cover him up so they can't get a good look at him." Everyone knew who I meant. Within a couple minutes, he was laid out on the decking and piled with emergency blankets. I looked up, meeting every eye in one long sweep. "Don't even breathe his name while you're out there. They probably have security cams and mikes in every corner." Then someone handed me a balled-up shirt, dripping a little water. I wasn't even sure whose it was.

We'd gotten in place just in time, too. A pair of massive bay doors closed in front of the skiff, gold gleaming off the edges, and then moved toward us, sealing us in. Something else grabbed the skiff's wings and leveled us out relative to the bay itself.

Nearly ten minutes passed before the junk-heap's half-ass instruments registered enough oxygen outside for the ramp to be released. Fry slapped the switch, then scrambled over and around everyone else. _Somebody_ obviously couldn't wait to be free of the cramped little craft.

When we actually got to see the inside end of the bay, it was swarming with armed mercs; I could count at least a dozen, and I'd have been willing to bet that there were more out of my visual range. A single, solitary man stood on the platform that had extended from the airlock, a natty white jacket falling all the way to his ankles. Just looking at him gave me the creeps; he was pale, even for a long-term spacer, and his black hair was cropped short but for one lock that curled down the left side of his face. Trendy green sunglasses hid his eyes.

Fry took three quick steps down the ramp before springing out into the air. She turned one graceful somersault in the null-gravity zone and then gently landed on the very end of the platform. 'Should've been in N-G ballet, instead of piloting,' I thought snidely. The man sneered briefly, probably due to the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies that hung around every one of us.

"Pilot Fry, I assume?" His voice matched the one I'd heard over the comm. "New Oslo does offer an… incentive to those who pick up its stranded." The blonde nodded, and he gestured imperiously. "I am Junner. If your… fellow survivors would follow me, I will show you where you may refresh yourselves." He turned, and the golden designs on the shoulders of his coat gleamed. Junner was obviously somewhere high in the command structure, with others to do the dirty work for him.

The invitation having been issued, the others began leaving the skiff to float after Fry with varying degrees of panache. I sincerely hoped that they wouldn't need the weapons I'd made them put back into my rifle case that first day out. At least Shazza had the little makeshift bag that held the remains of one of our tiny attackers; they'd need that to show New Oslo why they couldn't go back until the eclipse was over.

The imam gave me a long, searching look before he followed his boys, his posture telling me that he wondered whether Riddick and I would be all right. I gave him a steady nod, and then only Jack was left.

"Keep your eyes open, kiddo," I told her. "Gotta stay on your toes 'round mercs." She nodded back, her eyes going as cold as steel in a blizzard, then leapt after the others. As soon as they'd all gotten beyond what I could see through the airlock, I started to raise the ramp again.

"Hey!" one of the thugs yelled. I'd figured they leave at least one babysitter behind. "Leave that down!" I leveled my best glare at him, ignoring the sting that told my that my eyes were getting too much light.

"I need some things for my patient." I slipped into haughty mode. "Soap, clean water, a sponge of some sort, and, most importantly, _privacy_. There will be fifteen centimeters left open at the top. This thing needs to air out, anyway." What I could see of the man's face went red, and he backed off. I could just hear him say something to someone else, then all outside was quiet again.

With the ramp in place, I dug out my computer system and powered it up. Riddick, shedding blankets as he sat up, raised an eyebrow.

"I'm guessing that there's an interstellar array somewhere on this behemoth," I told him in low tones. "I can hack into it, and then I'll contact Jamie and start hacking certain portions of the Datanet."

"To change up some records." I nodded, smirking. "Who is 'Jamie?'" The big man's voice had gone cold and dangerous as he asked the question.

"My surrogate older brother-turned-boss." I blinked, surprised by the aggression hidden in his posture even as it melted away. 'No threat,' his body now seemed to say.

"You mentioned Drift and Callahan back there." I knew that 'there' meant the planet where we'd crashed. "Just when did you meet them, and why the _hell_ would they be saying anything good about me?"

"About six or seven years ago," I started, "they opened a dojo on Icarus Station, near where I lived with my folks. I started out in a regular aikido class, just to keep myself in shape, but within two months they'd decided to work with me separately from the other students. I'd started on my criminology degree by then, and had sort of absently noted your court-martial. It wasn't until Sergeant Drift was watching me sparring with Sergeant Callahan that he mentioned I moved the same way you did when they were training you." I scowled slightly at the amused look on Riddick's face.

"I've noticed," he said wryly. "And?"

"Well, I grilled them," I replied, shrugging. "They left The Company shortly after the court-martial, said it stank of a set-up."

"Someone had to take the fall," he muttered. If I was reading him right, Riddick was actually _grieving_ for his battle group, even though it had been years. God, why hadn't anyone ever done anything about that? Then again, he _had_ been blamed for the whole thing.

"It _should_ have been the person at fault," I told him, poking his chest to emphasize my point. "What went wrong?"

"Bad intel, is my guess. We'd been fighting for days, finally got clear and transmitted where we thought we were. Command said we were behind friendly lines, so we bivouacked, but either they were wrong about the lines or our nav guys were wrong about the coordinates they sent. I woke up to hear my platoon being slaughtered." His shoulders were hunched defensively. "Killed the bastards, but that didn't bring any of my boys back."

"Yeah, that's pretty much what the Sergeants had guessed." I looked down at the decking. "They got me interested, and then it was like trying to take a bone away from a hungry dog. I kept digging, trying to find the truth. You know, they've got your age and birthplace down as 'unknown' and classified your psych and physiological records." That made him look rather sour.

"Company must know why I'm different, then, and they don't want anyone else finding out. Twenty-five, Taurus Three." I nodded. "Youngest commander in The Company ever, though. Eighteen when I got the rank." Now _that_ was more like him, smug over his achievements, not that most would see a lot of what he did as such.

"We ever find out why, or who did that to you," I vowed, referring to his earlier confidences, "I'll gladly help you torture them." He actually smiled at that. Now sure that he wasn't going to go depressed or grouchy on me, I turned back to my system and started a text-only message.

**Jamie,**

**Hunter-Gratzner (New Oslo Shipping Co.) crashed on a desert planet. I'm all right; a bit toasty, 'cause the damned thing had three fucking suns. I'd better be getting my money back from them. At least I had some sunscreen, so it's not nearly as bad as it could have been.**

**On the bright side, I met that vid star that your little sister is obsessed with. He's one of the other survivors. I'll see if I can't bring back an autograph for her. She's scarily close to the truth on all that negative press he's gotten lately.**

**Twelve of us survived the crash and got off the planet. We've been picked up by a ship called **_**Kubla Khan**_**. I'd have sent a vid message, but their array isn't set up for anything more than text. Let me know what's been going on at the office, huh?**

**Hope to see you again before too long.**

**Eileen**

I smirked as I coded the message so it would piggy-back on the next outgoing signal. Since it was text-only, it was so small that no one would notice it.

Only then did I notice the deep, even breathing coming from the man propped up against the seats opposite me. Riddick's eyes were closed and his chin rested against his chest. His entire frame had gone rather limp.

'Well, I'll be damned,' I thought. 'He's gone and fallen asleep on me.' I'd caught a few catnaps since we left the planet. He was trusting me to watch out for him while his body rested. I wasn't about to let Riddick down now.

When the dumb-ass mercs brought the things I'd asked for, with a med-kit to boot, I made sure to disturb him as little as possible. God only knew when we'd have to be on the move again.


	2. Chapter 2

Here, for the first time, I diverge from Eileen's first-person viewpoint. It _will_ happen again, so look for the locations centered in the text for scene changes. Enjoy!

**Instinct**

A _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Two

_Kubla Khan_ secondary mess

"It's been almost two days," Fry muttered. "They think they can hide Riddick forever?"

Jack felt her eyes go wide as the R-word came from the pilot's lips. OK, she'd gotten the H-G down without getting them _all_ killed, but now she was betraying the two people that had managed to lead almost all the survivors to the skiff and relative safety? There was no excuse. She'd spotted the two cameras within the first hour of being shown into the mess by that Junner guy. Now the secret was out, and there was certain to be hell to pay.

"You ungrateful _bitch_," she found herself snarling at the blonde. "They risked their necks for us. They could have _died_, and you can't keep one word to yourself?! I wish we'd left you with Johns!" The others were just sitting there, blinking and doing fuckin' nothing. So much for all that Eileen and Riddick had done.

"The child is right," Imam murmured. "You dishonor yourself by repaying them this way, Pilot. May Allah have mercy on your soul." Whoa. That was as close as Jack ad ever heard the holy man come to condemning someone, and he hadn't exactly been quiet for the last six and a half days. Praying all the time he was awake for those who hadn't lived through the wreck, she'd noticed.

The door hissed open, and Jack turned to find the Junner guy there, with three armed mercs. One grabbed her, the other two going for al-Walid. She struggled for all she was worth, but it wasn't enough, not by a long shot. The merc had her but good.

"Thank you, Pilot," the pale asshole said in that greasy voice of his. "You have just made our recovery of your ship quite profitable." And if that didn't sound bad, she didn't know what did.

_Kubla Khan_ retrieval bay

We had each slept for two six-hour shifts—six hours of sleep, then ten awake, alternating who was up—when the shit hit the fan. Riddick and I were both alert, being in one of the overlap periods that we had thus far spent talking and preparing for when we eventually had to leave the skiff. Oh, and there was some kissing in there, too, but… It was the shouts that alerted us, Jack's angry voice coming in loud and clear.

"Lemme go you shits! Get! Off!" And that was the only part that made any sense. Then we heard Abu's voice below hers, not shouting, but still strident.

"You will regret that you ever laid hands on one of us," he was telling someone. "You forfeit your life with your actions!" Then Jackie squeaked, and I do mean that. Sounded like someone had put a blade to something.

"I am generously allowing you one minute to come out of there," Junner's voice called. I immediately began strapping sheathes beneath my clothing, starting with my long daggers. A couple more went down into my boots, the action mirrored by my man. "However," the dumb-ass outside continued, "if you do not cooperate, I shall be forced to hurt one of your friends." I tossed a titanium-alloy shiv to Riddick, its match resting easily in my hand.

"Fifteen seconds, Ms. Bergenhaus, Mr. Riddick." A pulse pistol found its way to my off hand and nodded to him. The big man settled his sunglasses securely over his eyes as I reached for the emergency ramp release. The hatch fell open abruptly, and I leapt.

My spring led me to the nearest merc, the small blade I held slicing smoothly through jugular, trachea, and carotid. I pushed away from his body and fired twice with the pistol, killing two that had been trying to ambush my man as he killed another. My fourth victim got it in the sweet spot; abdominal aorta, fourth lumbar down, just left of the spine. Blood sprayed.

A muffled scream drew my attention, and I looked toward the airlock. Junner stood there, holding Jackie against his chest and pressing a blade to her throat, where a couple of drops were already trickling down her neck. Two more mercs held back the holy man, with a third leveling a gun at his head. Damnit! Even if we both got off perfect shots, they could both be killed.

"Drop your weapons, or the girl dies," the man ordered. I looked at Riddick, nodded to him, and let the pulse pistol and shiv float away from my hands. He followed suit.

"Get their things and jettison this piece of junk," an imperious female voice said. The slim, white-cloaked form glided forward. "What an exquisite surprise. I told you he was, Junner. And a female of the species, as well." The cloak folded back on itself several times to reveal a tall, aristocratic woman. "Have them brought to my conservatory." With a sweep of her skirts, she was gone again.

The mercs that had survived our brief assault manacled me, then bolted Riddick to an inclined gurney. He couldn't move much, only his fingers and head. With us both supposedly disarmed, Jack and Imam were allowed to flank me.

"Fry ratted you guys out," the kid groused. "Can't keep her damn mouth shut."

"Language, child," Imam murmured. "She speaks the truth, however. I am sorry, my friends."

"Not your fault, holy man," Riddick assured him. He looked at me. "Should have let you make her stay with Johns." I smirked, knowing that he was referring to my desire to stake Fry out with the merc back on the planet.

"I'm guessing they'll take my stuff to wherever they're keeping you and the others," I muttered to them. "The case and my system are what's important. Remember what I said about weaknesses, kiddo." As I spoke, I was watching the dozens—no, hundreds—of cryo chambers that we passed. It chilled me to the bone how someone had converted a plantation ship into a vessel that collected human beings instead of crops or ores.

We were split up then; Jack fought to stay with me and Riddick, finally yelling that she'd find us as she was dragged away.

"You know what to do," I called to her just before hatches shut between us. I'd discussed this sort of possibility with her. "And she'd better do it," I muttered to my man.

"She can handle herself," he replied. My fingers drifted up to touch his cheek, the motion awkward with my hands bound as they were. Ever so slightly, he leaned into the touch. A little voice inside me growled, the same voice that directed my actions in the heat of a fight, saying, 'Mine!' every time I looked at him. I didn't even remotely want to argue with it.

After another minute or so, we entered a gigantic room filled with statuary. Riddick was released from the gurney, though his hands remained in the manacles. Without a word, we moved to stand back-to-back, and I began scanning for threats, obstacles, and potential weapons, in that order. All the 'artwork' appeared to consist of human or humanoid forms in various poses, some rather contorted.

Junner came toward us with a hypo-spray, though he appeared not to have anticipated our defensive stance. He was poised to hit the big guy from behind, but I was in the way. I raised my hands, fisted together as though I held a back, and got ready to swing at him. Junner backpedaled.

"Whichever one you can manage, Junner," that creepy woman directed. Her flunky charged toward me, and I threw my hands back over Riddick's head. He caught the manacles with his chin and leaned forward, allowing me to deliver a strong kick. One foot hit the hypo and knocked it away, while the other clipped Junner's jaw. He went down like a metric ton of bricks.

'OK, that was cool,' I thought as my feet returned to the floor, Riddick ducking out from under my hands. We certainly had _not_ planned that move. I pressed more firmly against his back, feeling the vibrations of his silent chuckles.

"We're all up-to-date on our vaccinations, thanks," I said loudly. Freak-boy scowled and rubbed his chin, which was already reddening with the makings of a spectacular bruise. I love combat boots.

"Fascinating," the woman mused, walking around to look me up and down. "Such coordination between them, and the accuracy of the strike… A pity no one ever managed to study their people in depth before they were exterminated." I narrowed my eyes at her from behind my shades. She knew something that we didn't, and I didn't like it one bit.

"Plenty of folks have studied humans," Riddick rumbled.

"Ah, but not so with the Furyan species," the bitch responded, reaching out to touch his face. Images rolled over me, memories that I hadn't been able to get at, even as I tried to bite her fuckin' arm off.

A pink-red sky over rolling hills that were crowded with headstones—the headstones of my murdered people, I suddenly knew. A dark-haired woman with pale green, gleaming eyes, touching my forehead even as she stood in that gigantic graveyard. 'Choose your future,' she said over and over again.

My teeth clacked together on empty air, less than two centimeters from the arm of the aristocratic woman, the images dissolving as quickly as they had come. Riddick had turned with me, pulling his face out of reach. 'Good,' I thought. 'Don't want Junner getting either of us with that hypo.' I didn't know what was in it, but it wasn't something that would be good news, that was for sure.

"Interesting reaction." Cold, dead eyes studied me. "Barbaric, but interesting. You are sure they are not mated?" The question was directed at Freak-boy.

"Nothing to suggest that they have done so, Lady Chillingsworth. The pilot insists that they could not have been acquainted before the crash. They had no opportunities prior to our retrieval of their vehicle, and surveillance does not indicate that it could have happened since then."

Oh, God, were they debating whether Riddick and I had had _sex_?! And they'd been watching us in the bay!

"You are some seriously sick fuckers," I snarled. The big guy's rising growl seconded my opinion.

"True. No one actually knows what triggered their matings, though, only that they occurred." Now Chillingsworth was pissing me off. She strolled over to a particular statue, caressing it as though it were a favorite pet. "Beautiful, are they not?" she asked. Then I looked down, reading the graven title.

'Killer of Men: Furya,' it said. The male it depicted resembled Riddick only in the vaguest sense. Big and muscular, but that was pretty much all they had in common.

"Each, at one time, was the most wanted man or woman in the 'Verse. Now they are preserved in cryo so profound that seconds become days, and to blink is the work of a week. Yet their minds are unaffected, thinking whatever thoughts drive them." The Furyan blinked at that moment, and I had to resist the urge to retch.

"You've got billions of UDs in here, collecting dust?" Riddick asked in disbelief. The central piece alone had to have at least a hundred of the people-statues.

"Ah, but here, they are truly appreciated for what they are: _art!_" The bitch sounded more insane with each word, the last coming out as though she was having a fuckin' orgasm.

"Lady, your taste sucks," we chorused. I had to stifle a laugh, ending up with a snort instead.

She went on at length about Riddick being an 'artist,' to the extent that I wanted to ask her what the point was. As she spoke, Chillingsworth led us through several gauzy red curtains, until she reclined on a divan. Then she hit a switch, and the curtains rose. My blood boiled.

In the middle of large arena, Jack and Abu al-Walid were perched on a pair of giant balls, their hands in manacles and metal collars around their necks. Cables stretched from there up to the high ceiling.

"Told you I'd find you," the kid said, embarrassment coloring her voice. Riddick jerked suddenly as something hissed. I turned to see a very smug Junner holding the hypo-spray.

Well, _shit_.


	3. Chapter 3

As usual, parts of the dialogue and action are swiped straight from the source material. Eileen and Riddick are beginning to see the effect of the bond forming between them. Standard laws of physics apply in the jumps and so forth. 'Each action has an equal and opposite reaction' is the most important of those here.

**Instinct**

A _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Three

"I must see you in action," Chillingsworth breathed. "Of course, to prevent any further barbarities toward my personnel, Riddick has been injected with an explosive device." She casually waved a remote detonator.

"Give them the knives." A merc came forward, throwing the two shivs so that they stuck in the floor less than a meter from the edge.

I watched Chillingsworth and her lackeys carefully while my man—my mate?—stooped and drew the weapons, barely making a sound as they were dislodged. One was placed in my hand a moment later, and I spun it easily, reassuring myself that its balance had not changed. The hilt smacked back into my palm with a satisfying sound.

"Next time you see this," Riddick told Junner, pointing with his, "it's gonna be in your eye." The pale man's flinch was barely visible. One merc got overconfident and stepped too close; between my leg sweep and my man's elbow to the head, a very dazed fatso went toppling down into the arena. When the remaining two moved to shoot us, I turned and leapt from the observation platform, landing in an easy crouch.

Riddick followed a split second later, and then the lights dimmed; a huge pair of doors opened to reveal two really creepy tentacled _things_, each with a whirling orb at its center. As we both lifted our shades, the lights went out altogether.

"I… I can't see," Jack said, her voice trembling. Imam began to pray under his breath. The merc fired at one of the creatures, both of which had begun to phosphoresce, tentacles waving. The beast whipped out and snared the merc with two of its four appendages.

"You don't want to, kid," the convict said as the merc was dissolved in front of us. Ick.

I heard Chillingsworth order ultraviolet lights as Riddick used his shiv to break the linkage between my manacles. I returned the favor before turning toward Jack. For a moment, his broad hands gripped my hips, and then I was flying.

I snagged the cable as I sailed by the girl; my momentum nearly pulled her off the ball before my feet joined hers in steadying it. I quickly hacked at the potential noose, awfully glad that I'd chosen the titanium-alloy shivs. Regular steel just wouldn't have done the job. As soon as she was free, I started walking the sphere toward the holy man.

"Slide down when I jump," I directed as the two spheres met with a gentle 'click.' Then I moved to Abu's ball and began cutting again. Then we both joined her on the floor, and I drew the spare blades from my boots.

"Where's Riddick?" Jack asked as she took the knife, eyes wide to absorb whatever light they could. I spotted him, only to find the creatures trying to corner him. Without a word, the three of us sent one of the balls careening into one of the things.

"Over there," I said as it was steamrolled. "Stick to the wall." I made sure both of them had touched it before tucking the shiv into my belt and drawing my daggers.

"You said you disarmed them, you fool!" I could hear Chillingsworth shriek. With a laugh, I advanced on the downed beast.

'Shrill,' whispered that little voice as I sliced off one tentacle, then another. 'Gotta hit the center.' Then I was close enough to reach it, and the orb shattered like glass. Some sort of fluid leaked from it as the shrill collapsed.

Ten seconds later—ten _long_ seconds—Riddick hurled his shiv at the second creature, ending its life. The lights rose quickly; I slammed my sunglasses back down so fast it nearly hurt.

"Bravo," the bitch exclaimed, setting aside a pair of opera glasses and clapping. "The grace, the speed… Now, how to mount you to do it justice?" Like hell I was letting her turn any of us into statues.

I barely heard Riddick growl at jack, and then the shiv I'd given her flew through the air. He caught it with ease, then calmly dug the tip into the side of his neck. As Chillingsworth freaked, he put a finger into the neat little incision…

Eww. He'd extracted the explosive by hand.

"You gonna keep that?" Jack asked, looking at the device.

"Get down!" I dropped as my man hurled the thing and the psycho bitch finally got a good hold on the detonator.

_**BOOM!**_

Before the dust settled, I was up and running, sheathing a blade so I could grab Jack's wrist. Imam was ahead of me, and Riddick behind, as we tore along a corridor.

"Where are the others?" I gasped. The older man veered off down another passageway, and we followed. Half a dozen turns later, he stopped in front of a locked hatch, waving at it as he bent over, panting. Riddick didn't bother with the lock; he simply skewered the device with the shiv. It poured sparks, but the door opened, and eight shocked faces turned toward us.

"Can you get everyone to the flight deck?" I asked the holy man. He'd already proven to me that he had a flawless sense of direction. He gave me a grim nod, determination writ large across his features. A distant roar echoed through the ship, and I stiffened. They'd set something on our scent, likely Riddick's, as he had left blood behind from his impromptu self-surgery.

"Get 'em outta here, holy man," the con instructed, pushing Jack toward the others. "Don't forget the bags." That was accompanied by a wave at my rifle case and the one duffel, which held everything else that I'd brought but for the water jugs.

Then the two of us were off again, backtracking a bit before my man drew the shiv from my belt and cut his arm. It was just deep enough to bleed freely, leaving a trail for our pursuer.

I heard the shouts next; a glance over my shoulder revealed that four mercs were on our tail. Then a clanking noise registered, punctuated by another roar.

"'Golls," I gasped. "Set fuckin' Rykengolls on our asses." We poured on the speed, but then found out that we'd entered a dead end.

"Air shaft." Riddick was peeling off his tank, the dark cloth not showing whether he'd gotten blood on it or not. I looked up, finding the dark square in the ceiling, but I wasn't much for standing vertical jumps. His hands settled on my hips again. "Ready?"

'Oh,' I thought as I found myself hurtling through the air. 'Right. Does he _like_ throwing me around?' I shot up into the shaft, my arms and legs wedging against the walls as I felt my momentum falter. I climbed a bit further to make sure Riddick had enough room to join me. He stopped about four meters up the shaft before staring down at his shirt on the decking.

I saw one of the mercs pick it up before another shouted, realizing it wasn't left for _them_. Gunfire echoed, and roars. A splash, then the sound of warping metal. Then the 'Golls' pet was looking right up at us. Riddick dropped like a stone, his vicious knives out, and I followed, tapping the side of the duct's bottom edge so that I wouldn't land on top of him.

The machine-monster mish-mash never stood a chance.


	4. Chapter 4

Yes, Jackie gets a bit childish-sounding toward the end of this chapter. Keep in mind that she's only eleven or twelve; in _Chronicles_, she states that she was twelve when she was slaved out by the mercs she'd joined in hopes of finding Riddick. Gah, what a mouthful. I hope that made sense...

**Instinct**

A _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ Alternate Universe

Chapter Four

Riddick and I scavenged clothes from the three dead mercs; ours were covered in gore and were no longer fit to use as rags, let alone wear. It didn't take long, as neither of us was particularly body-shy around the other. I _did_ catch his appreciative leer, though.

My man seemed to have memorized the ship's layout, he was so sure of his path through it. When we reached the flight deck, though, we received an unpleasant surprise. Junner and another merc had ambushed the other survivors, who lay in a groaning heap.

Riddick flexed, his neck popping and cracking as the remaining titanium shiv appeared in his fist. He began to circle Tall-and-Pale as I faced off with the blond, daggers drawn; he looked eerily like Johns.

"Heard you left my brother behind," the guy snarled. His voice was heavy with the same drawl as Billy Bad-Ass'. "Didn't even try to keep him alive."

"Told 'im not to wander off," I countered casually. "Not my fault he didn't listen. 'Sides… I _hate_ mercs." Then I lunged, sparks flying as my blades skittered along his gauge. "Didn't your momma teach ya not to bring a gun to a knife fight?" If he didn't have any knives, this was going to be a boring event.

What he pulled out was a single piece, nearly as long as one of my daggers, but held in a conventional grip. It wasn't nearly as well-crafted; I could see a weld near the hand-guard. He might have had more reach with his pig-sticker, but my reverse grip allowed me to block strikes with less effort, and he'd be dead once I got inside his guard.

He wasn't bad, I had to admit. For a while, he was even holding me off. But then the lights went out, and it was game over. I caught him neatly across the throat and again across the stomach with my second blade, hearing a shatter and scream as I stepped back.

Riddick looked down at Junner's corpse, the shiv through the merc's eye.

"Told ya that was comin'." We looked at each other and smiled. As I heard Jack come around, we turned to the small but elegant craft sitting in the middle of the deck. Riddick grabbed the hatch and pulled.

_**BLAM!**_

"You foul… barbaric… savages!" Damnit, Chillingsworth had been waiting for that! Now my man was down with a shoulder wound, at least, and she was turning the antique gun on me…

_**BLAM!**_

'Wait… she missed? From that close?' I thought, my eyes still closed. Then I heard the collapse of a formerly standing dead body.

The bitch had fallen between us, half of her head blown to smithereens. I turned to thank whoever had saved my ass.

"Yeah, it's over," Jack said, lowering Junner's custom piece. She looked far too calm for just having killed a woman, almost shocky.

"That was an awfully uncivilized thing you did there, Jack," Riddick rumbled. She glared and crossed her arms, the rifle resting on one hip.

"She started it." I almost had to laugh. "She shot you, and I wasn't going to let her kill Eileen on top of it. And don't try to tell me she wasn't going for a head shot." OK, so it sounded a little petulant, and kind of funny coming from her, but Jackie had a point. Chillingsworth had been the true barbarian.

I wrapped the kid in a hug, weapons and all, ruffling her short hair as I stepped back. She gave me a tentative smile.

"That was a pretty good shot, girl. If you gotta stop 'em quick like that, take the head shot. One through the heart won't stop them from pullin' the trigger one last time." I could feel the real civilians staring at me, but I could care less.

We were all alive, and a quick look proved Riddick's shoulder was a through-and-through: nothing broken, no bullet to extract. Everything else would be all right.


	5. Epilogue

Don't know why I chose 'Gabriel' for Toombs' first name. Maybe I saw it somewhere else. With the size of Chillingsworth's ego, it stands to reason that she would have the very best that money could buy... in everything, hence the lavishness of her runabout. Last part of this one. Let me know what you think!

**Instinct**

A _Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury_ Alternate Universe

Epilogue

We split up after that. One of the jumpers was easily big enough for six adults and three teenage boys, and certainly capable of getting them all the way to New Mecca on Helion Prime. Fry would pilot it, though the others weren't happy with her for blowing Riddick's cover.

He, Jack, and I took our time, inspecting all the other available craft, but finally settled on the sleek captain's runabout, where Chillingsworth had hidden. The thing was so decked out that we could make a killing by selling it; luxurious cabins, each with its own head, frivolous rooms to spare, and even its own interstellar comm array.

Chillingsworth had gone all out on that little baby. At least she hadn't added any of her own 'art,' which would have been really creepy. There were gold and platinum accents _everywhere_, fine marble trimmings, and a dining table and chairs that _had_ to be old-Earth antiques, likely even pre-space era. Those would bring in a lot of UDs.

I made sure Imam had Jamie's contact information before he left. He was probably the only one I truly trusted that was going core-ward. If there was an emergency, Jamie would be able to put him in touch with me, wherever I was at the time.

We had a ship, one that we could trade in for a good freighter. There would probably be enough capital left over to give us a start on a shipping business. We had each other, most importantly, and we thought it would all be enough. Fake Riddick's death somewhere along the way, and we'd be free and clear… or so we thought.

_Kubla Khan_ bridge

Gabriel Toombs gazed out the viewports, the only living thing currently awake on the entire ship. He'd watched the largest jumper go first, thermal sensors showing six adults and three kids on it. Then the runabout edged into view and blasted into FTL. Readings came back as two adults and a kid, and the merc wanted to cuss so badly. He knew who at least one of those occupants was.

"Riddick. We ain't done yet, boy. Not by a long shot."

From Icarus Station

**Eileen,**

**What the hell have you gotten yourself into now? For God's sake… Be careful, damnit! I have a bad feeling you're talking about Mr. R, and that scares me. You sure you're all right? No head wounds? I'd better be getting a vid from you soon, with copious explanations. Don't kill too many mercs getting out of there. I don't want to have to bail your ass out of some jail somewhere.**

**Jamie**


End file.
